Expanded Horizons
by Guardian Erin
Summary: Angel and Spike are starting a strange new relationship. When Angel runs into a problem, Spike runs into an opportunity to explore a new world.
1. Chapter 1

Angel quietly emerged from the shower, drying his hair with a towel. He stopped, looking over to the bed. All he could see of Spike was his hair and part of his back, the rest turned away and thoroughly hunkered down into the sheets. Angel already knew that Spike wouldn't come to the office until at least noontime, and nothing short of dragging him out of bed for a blood and bourbon would wake him up sooner.

"What do I tell him?" Angel muttered to himself in the elevator. "Oh, hey, last night was a big mistake?" he spat out, rolling his eyes at himself. The elevator stopped. He stepped into his office, just managing to shut the door before Harmony could assail him.

I shouldn't have even touched him, Angel thought to himself. Every night since day one was a mistake. No matter how drunk he had been the first time, or every time. He knew from the start that it would probably lead to something more than just exchanging punches and orgasms. He didn't expect that Spike would just kiss him goodnight, and everything would be ruined.

Just a kiss.

He couldn't sleep.

Had that really happened? Angel agonized over whether it did, and what it would mean. If it hadn't, would it anyway? Was he supposed to avoid it? Shove Spike away, never let him close again? That would certainly put a permanent end to their relationship. Spike was an emotional creature, and this would ruin him. Angel put his fingers to his lips for the thousandth time, trying to remember exactly what he'd felt when Spike kissed him. He could never quite remember, but he knew he had felt it.

Fuck. What now?

Angel wasted the hours pretending to shuffle through paperwork, or signing a few forms that were brought in. He made sure he was alone near lunch, and Spike came downstairs finally, fully clothed. The blonde plopped into a chair, as if he hadn't just spent the whole morning sleeping in. His hair was still messy from bed.

It was lucky that they never touched outside of the penthouse. What would Angel even do if they did? Try to keep Spike away? The damage had already been done.

"I hate your bloody brooding," Spike interrupted. He gave Angel a sort of seething glare, one that came more from the joy of a hangover than of actual hatred. "You're more pleasant when you're smashed." There was a pause, a sort of flicker of a smile. Spike was reminiscing. Fondly. Fuck.

Tonight. Angel would find a way to tell him tonight. Figure out what it meant. What the hell they were going to do about it.

"Boss?" Harmony interrupted, peering hesitantly around the door. "Fred like, really wants you to come down to the lab. No clue why but it's super important or whatever. Are you going?"

* * *

><p>"What is this?" Angel questioned, staring at the green rock sitting in the middle of the vacated laboratory. He, Spike, Fred, and Wesley stood behind protective glass, the strange crystalline rock on the other side.<p>

"That's the million dollar question," Fred said, writing on a clip board. She was wearing part of some sort of hazmat suit, as was Wesley.

"Looks radioactive," Spike said, internally wondering if vampires would die from radiation.

"Hence the suits," Fred said. "It does have elevated levels of radiation."

Angel looked concerned. "How elevated?"

"Well you could handle it without your skin melting off," Fred said, "but if you held it in your hands for about ten years you'd probably get cancer."

"Why's it lit up like a glow worm, then?" Spike asked.

"Analysis shows that it's close to mystical," Wesley said.

"It's like some element science has never seen before," Fred added. "And frankly, one that shouldn't possibly exist in this universe."

"So it's equal parts magic and cancer," Angel concluded. He didn't need to hear anything more to know it was bad news. "Box it up, whatever, and get rid of it."

"Angel-"

"I'm not discussing this. I don't like it. Do whatever it takes to destroy it, or seal it off forever."

"But..." Fred trailed off, unable to bring about their other dillemna before Angel left the area.

Like an angry puff of smoke, Spike thought. That was the sure sign that what had been too good to be true had finally collapsed back into reality. Quite a lot like St. Petersburg, but this one lasted twice as long. Last night brought it to a halt, he suspected. It was pure Angelus logic. Sex was understandable. But just spending the night in the same bed? The poof was probably caught up in a full-blown identity crisis.

Fred sighed. "What now?"

"We'll retrieve what we can and do as he says," Wesley answered, grim.

"Retrieve?" Spike cut in. "As in there's more of these glowy rocks?"

Wesley snorted slightly at Spike's terminology. "Glowy rocks, yes. This is only _one_sample, as we would have told Angel. It was discovered underneath an abandoned bridge. We had to put a team on the location to secure it."

"Sounds serious. I guess a bunch of cancer rocks is a big deal," Spike shrugged.

"That's just a side effect," Fred said. "It's not even important, really - that probably sounds bad to say, I know, but I wouldn't have even started talking about it if you hadn't brought up radioactivity. What's bad is that the rocks cause temporal erosion."

"Or in other words, they are eating away at the fabric between our world and another," Wesley said. "Our instruments show that this rock is starting to eat through here, but very slowly."

"You'd have cancer by the time you could see through to the other side," Fred explained.

"But the place where this sample was recovered... well, you can certainly see through," Wesley said.

Spike frowned slightly, intrigued. "And what's on the other side?"

"Hard to say," Fred shrugged. "Electronics get scrambled. The only man who went through was too disoriented to continue. But from the looks of things, it's similar to our world. Certainly not a hell dimension, thank goodness. We'll have to figure out how to remove the rocks, if that's even possible."

"Alright, I'll do it," Spike said.

"Um..." Fred frowned. "Do it?"

"You know. Explore the other side. I'll be your Neil Armstrong. That's what you were going to ask Angel to do."

"Okay, maybe we were, but Angel already said it's too dangerous. I think he's right."

"Pish. It'll be fun. Err, I mean, for the sake of science and all that. Come on, I'm bored to death doing nothing but running to Angel's... stupid reconnaissance missions. Well, this calls for reconnaissance more than anything. Something is melting through the universe. Sounds like the world is in danger. That's sort of my thing these days."

"You have a point," Fred said, turning to Wesley for advice.

The man shrugged. "Angel did brush it off too lightly."

"But listen to me," Fred said while she scribbled directions onto a piece of paper for Spike. "The other side is slightly out of sync with ours. From observation, I'd say their day is four hours ahead of ours. And four hours is the difference between a lovely starry night walk and a fiery sunrise of death. Got it?"

"I'd take notes, but you've got them for me," Spike said, snatching up the paper and scanning it briefly. "I'll head out early tonight, yeah? Don't wait up for me. Though, if it's boring I'll be back straightaway."

"May your adventure be full of excitement, Spike," Wesley said in a dry tone.

"Wes," Fred admonished. She turned back to Spike. "Be careful."

"Safe as houses," Spike promised.


	2. Chapter 2

The wear of the day was like a blister on Angel. Too many countless papers to look over, most of which he couldn't begin to navigate without help.

When the last meeting ended, Angel stayed in his chair, waiting for the room to clear out. There were perks to being feared by people, if you liked being left alone. But then there were always some who didn't fall into the fearing category. One of those people happened to walk in to the board room with a six pack in hand.

"Rough day?" Spike asked. He approached Angel's end of the table, and then wisely took a seat that left space between them. He plopped the six pack on the table and nudged it towards Angel like a peace offering.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough. Day's over. Let's just have a drink, yeah?"

Angel finally moved, only to gesture with his hand. "Not tonight, Spike."

"Okay." Spike dropped his hands and sighed, leaning back in his chair. He couldn't bear the silence for more than a minute. "Something's with you."

"There's always something, Spike," Angel said. "It's just this place. Legalese one day, zombie ambush the next. You know how it is."

"I know how _you_ are," Spike retorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Something's on your mind, and you don't ever just open up and bitch about it. Me, I bitch a lot. You just let it fester," Spike stood up, restless on his feet. "Fine, so you don't want to talk or share your feelings. Gotta be so manly with your silk boxer briefs and your expensive hair gel. I'll just tell you what's on my mind. This place is bloody boring."

Angel blinked at Spike and narrowed his eyes, barely keeping himself from rolling them. "That's your complaint? You've been here for more than a day, haven't you?"

"I'll give you to occasional attack of the crazies," Spike conceded, "but this isn't what you're used to. What either of us is used to. We should be out on the streets every night, kicking the tar out of ghoulies. Instead you're locked in your office all day long with nothing to do but brood. I worry about what you cook up in your head."

"If I thought talking it out would help, I would," Angel said.

"If that's true, then okay," Spike said. He thought for a moment, and then took off his leather duster and rolled his shoulders. "Let's fight about it, then."

"What?"

"Come on. If you're gonna shut up then you'd better put up."

"Why-"

"It's you and me, Angel, we don't need a reason why," Spike pointed out. It was true that no one would find it the least bit strange to have them exchanging punches in the middle of the board room.

"I get what you're trying to do," Angel said. He pushed himself away from the table and stood up slowly. "I just don't want to fight. Can we go upstairs?"

Spike lifted an eyebrow and then laughed. "Well, I guess I know what you consider a stress relief. Not sure I'm in the mood, though."

"Spike, please," Angel hissed, and Spike shut his mouth long enough for them to escape to the penthouse and barricade Wolfram and Hart away.

Spike tossed aside his coat and shoes as soon as he entered the apartment. Angel moved like a busied whirlwind, fumbling in the kitchen over no discernible goal, tidying things that didn't need it. Spike finally intercepted him, stopping him with hands on Angel's shoulders.

"Calm down," Spike said, feeling like he was trying to soothe a tense horse. He rubbed his hands over Angel's shoulders for a moment, and then leaned up on his toes to give Angel a kiss.

At the last moment, Angel moved and their lips missed. Spike's mouth landed on Angel's jaw instead, but he went with it, pressing harsh kisses in a line that ended at Angel's ear, and that was when Angel pulled away.

"Not tonight," Angel mumbled, looking like a guilty child.

"Alright, I'm starting to get pissed. You don't seem to want anything to do with me."

"It's not you, it's-"

"Give me that line and I will tear your throat out," Spike pointed a finger at Angel.

Angel looked away for a long moment.

This is how it ends, Spike thought to himself. No fight, no big to-do. Somehow the lack of a confrontation just made it so much worse.

Angel lifted his eyes and saw the hurt on Spikes face, the gears turning in the younger vampires head. He swallowed, cursing himself to hell and stepped forward quickly.

Spike tensed and stopped him, pushing back on Angels arms to prevent the first punch. Angel shoved hard enough, and his defensive stance collapsed for an instant. Before Spike could recover, Angel's mouth was at his cheek, pressing a tender kiss onto his flesh.

No punch came, and Spike shuddered, then let his guard drop. Angel's lips were cool to the touch, and when his mouth fell on Spike's neck with a bite it was a cold drop of _ohmygodyesnowplease_.

Angel sucked hard enough to draw the flavor of blood through the skin, leaving dark bruises behind. Those would heal within moments, but the reaction was incredible, like he'd found a 'Go' button and pushed it. Spike was cat-like in his arms, a steady rumble from his chest, making every effort to close the distance between them.

His teeth bit at the right places. His clever hands worked magic on Angel's body, and it was pure havoc. Angel was surprised that the bed didn't collapse, the way that they plummeted onto it. Spike barely seemed to notice, needing no laws of gravity. His hips settled over Angel's and full weight settled there while he arched up to strip off his shirt, the pressure driving Angel mad.

"Don't," Angel said, stopping Spike's hands when they moved to his belt. "Keep them on."

"Angel," Spike objected, but Angel rolled up his hips beneath him, and the friction was too good to miss.

Angel grabbed onto Spike's waist, pulling him harder against him, so that they ground together with every little movement. A hard rhythm built up, until it felt like fucking, but they were still separated by so many layers of denim and cloth.

"Can't go on like this," Spike mumbled breathlessly. Angel didn't stop, but instead purposefully reached a hand between them, and Spike understood his intentions.

Angel watched Spike writhe above him, and claw the sheets as he came. He felt the dampness of denim in his palm. He let go, barely avoiding an attempted kiss. Spike looked confused by the dodge, so Angel quickly diverted by nipping at Spike's ear, even as he rolled Spike onto the bed and lifted himself up.

It seemed to work at first; Spike sighed contentedly and rubbed his head against the pillows. He noticed Angel get out of bed, but didn't realize until a few moments later that Angel was not coming back for another round.

"Where're you going?" Spike asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Shower," Angel said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Not so much as a gesture or look hinting an invite. He might as well have gone back to the office. Spike stripped himself out of his clothes, peeling off his jeans. He felt oddly, as if something was off. He'd never had sex with anyone with his clothes on. Well, not with the good bits covered up. Even though Buffy had hated him, she still wanted his good bits.

When Angel got out of the shower, he climbed back into bed with all the resolve of an old man who just wanted to sleep. Spike laid still, waiting and listening and thinking. It was all too quiet. No soft night melody trying to draw him in. Instead, the world felt like a strange void.

In the still of the night, Spike got out of bed, dressed, and silently left.


End file.
